But when yee should now serue my turne indeede,
Yee haue no house I know not where yee dwell:
O freers and monkes your harbour is in hell,
For in this world yee haue no rightfull place,
Nor dare not once in heauen shew your face.
52.
Your fault not halfe so great as was my pryde,
For which offence fell Lucifer from skyes:
Although I would that wilfull folly hyde,
The thing lyes playne before the people’s eyes,